His Desert Rose
by Lynliss
Summary: An orphaned young woman is forced to Hampunaptra against her will by her brother and his companions. They have a dark purpose in mind for her that will once again raise the City of the Dead from its resting place beneath the sands. Ardeth must protect the city, but can he also guard his heart? Comments always appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I do not own The Mummy or the character Ardeth Bey. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and I earn no money from it.

#

The oasis of Fel-Amat appeared over the dunes like an emerald, palm trees waving in the slight breeze. Rose let out a shout of delight and tut-tutted to her camel, encouraging it out of its sedate ramble. She ignored her brother shouting to her to wait, and plunged forward, her long blonde hair falling out of its practical knot on the back of her neck.

The journey from Cairo had been excruciating. Rose had known it would be hot, but nothing could have prepared her for the strength-sapping oven that was the Sahara. Only her practical side, which reminded her that she would burn terribly if she shed clothing, had kept her long-sleeved, high-necked muslin blouse buttoned to the codes of decorum.

Rose's camel grunted as it approached the oasis, and picked up speed, apparently sensing the nearness of water. Allowing the animal its head, Rose was not surprised when it went straight to the water's edge. There she dropped lightly to the ground. Even through her leather boots, the hot sand heated her feet.

Any qualms she might once have had at drinking the same water as a camel belonged to another life. She knelt and drank deep palmsful, then splashed the water on her face and hair. The strands that had escaped her knot hung wetly in front of her shoulders, leaving dark stains down her blouse. They would evaporate within minutes in the dry heat.

Considerably refreshed, Rose turned to watch the rest of the expedition making its more sedate approach. Her brother, Roy, three other Englishmen and an American rode in the front, followed by seven laborers hired in Cairo. Roy jostled atop his camel, unable to master the rolling spine needed to ride smoothly. Sweat glistened on his ruddy face and ran in rivulets down his neck, disappearing under his collar. His pinched lips reminded Rose of her first teacher, always disapproving of her impulsive actions.

Thinking it best to avoid him until he managed to cool down, Rose led her camel down the shoreline, moving from one patch of shade to the next. She could feel his gaze like an arrow in the center of her back and studiously fought the urge to shrug it away.

#

Older than his sister by ten years, Roy was less than pleased to be saddled with a girl barely eighteen. A wasting illness had taken their mother after months of suffering. Rose said the doctors had eased the suffering with morphine, but the Camerons had never been wealthy and the cost of care had left nothing to pass on to the children. Roy had been half-drunk when Rose appeared on the doorstep of his rented room, having spent what little remained to her name to reach him, under the mistaken hope that he could care for her.

Still, she was family, and he couldn't turn her out into the streets. Nearly destitute himself, Roy had planned to join his drinking companions on an expedition into the desert in search of treasure. The American, Jim Gable, claimed to have seen a map with directions to the fabled Hamunaptra, City of the Dead. Unfortunately, with no time to find a chaperone and no money to pay for one, that meant Rose would have to come along.

Roy glared at his sister's retreating back. What was he going to do with her? There was no place for her in his life. He'd cleared his clothes-pile off the sofa in his room and slept there for the three nights before their departure while she used his bed, but such an arrangement couldn't go on forever.

She gathered her hair into her hands and twisted the damp strands. Its golden highlights glinted and her lifted arms highlighted her figure. In the five years since he'd last seen her, she'd blossomed into a beautiful woman. Even as her brother he could recognize that. Surely her pretty face and ready smile could be useful. Once they were back in the city, he'd bring her around to the places where the well-to-do Brits gathered. She couldn't help but catch some lonely officer's eye, and if she managed to snag a wealthy man, it couldn't do Roy any harm either.

He shook his head. She was so small and yet so full of energy. Each little thing that she saw delighted her, be it the sun rising like a gold coin over the sands or a desert fox dashing over the dunes. When he told her about this "archaeological dig," she'd been so excited that Roy couldn't work up the courage to admit it was really more like tomb robbing. What little Roy remembered of his sister was tinged with morality. She'd never understand that he was doing what he was to keep them from rotting in the gutters of Cairo. She'd start lecturing him that there were other kinds of work-respectable work. True enough, but damned if he would work as some kind of clerk or join the ranks of the army. For him, treasure hunting was the perfect answer. A little adventure, a lot of gain.

Still, there were stories about strange occurrences that had taken place some ten years ago-strange phenomenon like locust swarms and water turning to blood-that were rumored to be related to this City of the Dead, and stories of a fierce desert tribe that would kill to protect the city and its inhabitants. _Inhabitants_, he scoffed, _they're all dead, if the place exists at all_. And here he was dragging his sister along for the ride. He sighed. What a mess.

"Roy," Jim's voice broke him out of his reverie. "When are you going to tell your sister the truth? We can't keep this act up forever, and it's not like she can do anything about it other than pout. When we get to the City, it's going to become pretty clear what we're up to.

"I know it," Roy said. "It's just, well, what if we get to where we're going and there's no city? I'd rather that she not know what I had in mind in that case. She still seems to see some good in me, and I'd like to keep it that way if I can."

Jim smirked. "Don't you worry about the city. I've got something up my sleeve. They say Hamunaptra sank into the desert some years back. What they don't say is there's a way to make it rise back up. And I've got it."

Roy glanced at him in surprise. "Really? What is it?"

"Like I'm going to tell you? What would be to stop you from stealing it and offing me? Not likely. When we get there, though, then we'll have some fun. And your kid sister had better get a chance to get used to the idea, or she could put a damper on our day. You tell her, understand me?"

"I hear you. Just give me some time. Let me do it my way."

"You've got twenty-four hours. Then things get exciting."


	2. Chapter 2

Ardeth Bay led his small band of Medjai warriors towards the oasis at Fel-Amat. It had been a long week in the desert and they were all looking forward to the respite of a bath and some well-deserved rest in the shade.

Two months had passed since the last party had passed through, searching for Hamunaptra and the fabled gold buried with it. They had thought better of their plan once the Medjai swept into their camp, raised scimitars flashing in the moonlight, and suggested that they leave immediately. Ardeth smiled to himself at the memory of an older Englishman with a bushy white mustache trying to run without pulling his pants all the way on and landing face first in the sand. If only all fools were so easily dissuaded from their gold lust.

Ardeth's horse snorted and shook its mane. He patted its neck, eyes narrowing. Squinting into the brightness, he scanned for anything out of place. A high, sweet voice blew past over the dunes. Ardeth raised his hand in a fist and the band stopped still. One of the horses shifted and pawed at the sand. The sound came again, a woman singing nearby. The voice was as clear as a bird's, the tune strange and haunting. Ardeth couldn't make out any words.

The oasis lay just over the next dune and should have been empty. It was far from the normal travel routes, and the Medjai kept its location secret. Ardeth dropped to the sand, landing with flexed knees, and motioned to two of his men to follow.

The three men crept slowly up the face of the dune, the hot sand half-burying their feet with each step. Dropping down onto their stomachs they peered over the top. The oasis teemed with men-all too clearly a party of treasure hunters. Picks, shovels, torches-all the usual paraphernalia-lay in piles beside the hobbled camels.

Ardeth swore under his breath. So much for a respite. Counting quickly he found five white men and seven native Egyptians. The laborers were setting up camp, while the others sat in a circle, marking out a map in the sand, and still that unearthly singing danced on the breeze.

"Rose! Cut out that danged caterwauling, would you?" shouted one of the men.

A young woman appeared from behind a palm tree, pulling a brush through her long golden hair. "I'm sorry, Jim. I just wanted to paint this place with music. It's so mystical." She dropped the brush into a satchel hanging at her waist and quickly wrapped her hair into a neat bun as she walked towards the group of men. "Are we getting close to the City of the Dead yet? I'm excited to see it and start preserving the relics."

"Jesus, Roy, haven't you told her yet?"

"I say, Jim, you said I could have a day."

The woman circled around to stand behind the last speaker and laid her hand on his shoulder. "What haven't you told me?"

"It's nothing, Rose. Just nothing."

The man called Jim rose to his feet. He towered over the woman and stepped close, invading her space. She took a quick step back and crossed an arm over her chest. "What your brother ain't told you, darlin', is this ain't any archaeology trip. We're here to find the gold that's buried at Hamunaptra, take it back to Cairo, and sell it for as much money as we can get."

The muscles in Ardeth's shoulders clenched and he ground his teeth. It would be a pleasure to teach these men a lesson.

Rose pulled her hand off of Roy's shoulder and touched her fingers to the corner of her lips. "Is that true? Roy, did you bring me out here to be a tomb robber?"

"Now, sis, it's not as if the dead are going to miss it."

She backed away, stumbling in the clinging sand. "Didn't you learn anything from Mum and Dad? They taught me to respect the dead. It's one thing to study them, and treat them with proper respect, but quite another to strip them of the grave goods meant to follow them to the afterlife. I won't have anything to do with it, and you mustn't either. Come with me and let's go back to Cairo. There must be another way to make money without desecrating dead Egyptians."

Ardeth held his breath. Was it too much to hope that the brother would listen?

"I'm staying, Rose, and so are you."

Too much to hope, indeed. Ardeth blew out the breath through his nose.

"I'm doing no such thing. I'll just take my camel, some supplies, and a map, and I'll make my own way back to Cairo."

Jim closed the distance between them. This time Rose did not retreat, squaring her small shoulders towards the man. "And just where do you think you'll go when you get there?" he said. "You've got no home now that mommy-dearest is dead. You're stuck with us, darlin', and I need you at the city. You've got an important job there." He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her towards the tents. "You'd better realize that you depend on us, so you might as well put those self-righteous airs back in the closet where they came from. There ain't no place for them here."

He tossed her wrist away and she hit the ground hard. With a brisk motion, she turned away, staring out over the oasis and rubbing her wrist. Even at this distance, Ardeth could make out red marks where Jim had manhandled her. His hands clenched into fists. No woman should be treated so. Especially not one who showed such unusual good sense. He peered more closely at the map in the sand. From what he could tell, this group could actually find Hamunaptra's resting place. He only hoped he could manage to spare the woman from the bloodshed that surely must follow.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose lay in her tent, staring at the white fabric roof. No matter how she shifted on her sleeping mat, she couldn't find a comfortable position. A night-bird called from time to time, a deep, thrumming song. Low voices murmured, just far enough away that should couldn't make out the words. The campfire popped and crackled.

Sleep wouldn't be coming to her any time soon. With a groan, Rose stuffed her arms into her robe and pulled back the tent flaps. She decided against shoving her tired feet back into her boots. The sand still held the last vestiges of the day's warmth and the grains sliding between her toes were soft and welcoming.

A cool breeze blew off the oasis. She wrapped her arms around herself and thought about joining Roy at the fire, but Jim's presence dissuaded her. Turning her back on the circle of men, Rose slipped past the laborers' tents and followed the waterline to the west.

Water lapped against the shore. The breeze smelled of exotic blooms that Rose couldn't name. A full moon shone overhead, reflected in the calm ripples. Rose glanced behind. The camp was out of sight. The corner of her lip twitched upward. She slipped off her robe and gathered the fabric of her nightgown on one hand, baring her legs from the knees down. Nibbling on her lip, she dipped a toe into the water. It was cool and beckoning. No one could see her. Moving slowly, careful not to splash, she waded in.

As the water caressed her calves, she blew out a long breath, curling her toes into the wet sand. For the first time since Jim confronted her that afternoon, her mind slowed down enough that she could process what had happened. Thinking back on it made her wrist throb. Worse, though, was that Roy hadn't so much as uttered a word of protest. Had he truly changed so much in five years? Although she didn't agree with his decision, she could almost understand how he could see tomb robbing as a quick and easy way to wealth, but to let a friend treat his own sister so harshly?

A camel blatted in the distance, cutting over the call of the unfamiliar night-bird. Rose's lips narrowed. She could try to steal one of the camels while the men slept. Turn northeast towards Cairo and hope the beast would know its own way home. But even if she did manage to survive the journey, even if she did find her way back to the city, where would she go? What would she do? Jim had a point. A young, unchaperoned white woman was always a target. Even in the modern nineteen-thirties, there were still tales of women being captured to serve in the harems of powerful desert sheiks.

Something else clawed at the back of her mind, and she struggled to pull it to the forefront. Something Jim had said, which had struck her as strange. _You've got an important job there_. It made no sense. She was just along for the journey, even if this truly had been an archaeological expedition.

A shiver snaked down her spine and suddenly the night felt very cold. Rose shook her head and turned back towards the shore. As she stepped onto dry sand, she raised her gaze and froze, her heart thudding against her ribs. Ten men on horseback stared down from atop the nearest dune, the moonlight casting them in sharp detail.

Rose fled. The shifting sand slowed her as she struggled towards the camp. Her calves burned and her ears buzzed. She didn't dare look behind. "Roy!" she shouted as the campfire came into view. "Roy, on the dune!"

The five men leapt up to their feet and spun to look past her. Two laborers stuck their heads out of their tents, eyes wide and round. Jim strode towards her, rubbing the back of his neck, his face pale. "Jesus, Rose. What're you trying to pull? There's nobody out there," Jim snapped.

Rose looked back over she shoulder. The ridge of the dune was bare. _How did they do that?_ It had been only seconds. "But, they were there," she gasped, coming to a stop. "Ten men on horses. I saw them!"

"Sure thing, Rose. You're a wily one, aren't you, trying to make us think there's Medjai out there watching us? You can't scare us with that fairy tale."

Rose raised her hands, palm up, and her brows scrunched. "Med-what? What are you talking about? I've never heard of a Med-eye, or whatever it was you said, but there were men out there. You should post sentries or something." She looked to her brother. "Roy, tell him. I don't lie."

Roy pulled off his hat and fanned himself with it, casting darting glances towards the desert. "Jim, she's telling the truth. I haven't told her any of the stories about Hamunaptra. She doesn't know about the Medjai." He scuffed his toe in the sand. "I'm inclined to believe her. If the City really exists, then why not its guardians? I've got a bad feeling about this."

One of the other men nodded his agreement. "I'm with you, Roy. This place is starting to give me the creeps."

Jim whirled about and threw up his hands. "Fine! You three can sit up all night and stare at the desert, if it makes you happy. I'm getting some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow." He kicked sand over the fire as he passed it, smothering the reassuring flames.

Rose sank down to the ground, shivering. She hadn't stopped to grab her robe before she fled. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them to herself. "Roy, what's he talking about?" she asked, although she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Oh, all right. I suppose you might as well know it all." Roy shoved his hat back into place and settled himself beside her. "Hamunaptra's supposed to be the resting place of some mummy priest that can be resurrected, and when he is, he'll bring with him the plagues of Egypt and be able to destroy the world. The Medjai are supposedly the guardians of the City, protecting it so that the mummy can never be brought back to life. The stories say they kill anyone who comes to the City."

Rose rapped her knuckles against her knees, her hand balled into a tight fist. Her pulse raced. "And you brought me here? Fine brother you're turning out to be. I should've stayed in England and hired on as a domestic. You're going to get me killed!"

"I never asked to be saddled with you." The pitch of Roy's voice rose, the words clipped and fast like a barrage of gunfire. "I hardly remember you from growing up. Father doted on you, but nothing I did was ever good enough. I could never please him. Mum never criticized me to my face, but I know she was disappointed in me too. I couldn't stay in that house after he died. I could stand the way Mum looked at me like I was a failure, but _you_ could do no wrong. Their little angel, dainty little Rose. Well, you're not my little Rose." He pounded his hand on the ground. "You're my little pain in the neck! I'll give you enough money when we're back in Cairo to get you on your feet, then my responsibility is done. I never want to see you again."

Rose's lips curled in on themselves. "I'm sorry that's how you feel. I've always looked up to you. My big brother who could do no wrong. Brave enough to travel the world. I suppose I've been very naïve." She lurched to her feet, her stomach churning, a golf ball-sized lump trapped in her throat. "I don't want your money. I'll have nothing to do with grave robbing. Consider your obligation to me over. I'm sorry I was a burden to you."

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, and she turned away before they could fall. The desert suddenly felt unbearable large and even surrounded by people, she had never felt more alone. She stumbled to her tent and crawled inside. Even in the close confines of the tent, she felt naked and vulnerable.

Curling into a ball, the tears began to flow in earnest. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine a fortress around herself, strong enough to block out the world.

#

Ardeth Bay sat in the shadow of the palm tree just outside Rose's tent. The Medjai had done as he instructed, providing a distraction to cover him as he slipped inside the camp. Even now they waited, he knew, watching unseen.

The bark of the palm tree pressed against his back, sharp and uncomfortable, but he remained motionless, listening to the wracking sobs that the tent's fabric did nothing to hide. He seethed. Even though he had never met Rose, he wanted to break her brother's nose. Never would any of the Medjai people treat family as he had. Never would a woman be so completely rejected.

Vaguely he realized that his fists were clenched. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He could do nothing until the rest of the camp slept. After what seemed like an eternity, the camp was quiet, except for someone snoring loudly in the next tent. The thrumming bird call the Medjai used to communicate without being discovered rang out. The lookout reporting that all was clear.

Ardeth unfurled his long limbs, crossed from the shadows, ducking low, lifted the tent flap, and eased inside. The full moon was bright that night, and even inside the tent there was light enough to see. Rose rested in a fetal position, her clenched fist pressed to her lips. Her loose golden hair tangled around her shoulders, and she shivered in a thin nightshift. The blanket lay in a twisted pile at her feet. She drew in a shuddering breath and drew her legs in tighter still.

Ardeth dropped down on his heels and softly brushed a strand of hair from of her face. So different from the women of the Medjai. Her hair was so soft it was almost weightless. He traced her cheek with a soft touch. Her eyelids fluttered, long and pale against her skin. In slumber, her face looked as innocent as a child, but the nightshift did little to hide her womanly form.

He covered her mouth with his hand and gently shook her.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose's eyes flew open to find a dark man looming over her. Black hair hung in waves to his shoulder and a closely trimmed beard framed his angular face. Shadows hid his deep-set eyes. His palm pressed against her mouth, long fingers draping over her jaw. Sick fear surged in her throat. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She hit out at him, churning her legs.

"Hssh!" he hissed. He wrapped a leg over hers and his free hand caught her wrists, pinning them over her head. "I won't hurt you. I only want to speak with you."

She thrashed her head. If she could free her mouth, she could scream. Adrenaline rushed through her limbs, tingling and cold.

His voice dropped low, his mouth inches from her ear. "Please, Rose. I want to help you."

On hearing her name, she froze. He raised his head and stared down at her. Black tattoos marked his face, giving him a fierce appearance, but the crease of his brows showed concern, not anger. She gestured with her chin and blinked.

His eyes narrowed. "Whisper. Do you understand me?"

She nodded. If he had meant to harm her, he could have done so already. The frantic beat of her heart slowed. He removed his hand.

Rose licked her lips. "Who are you?" There were more questions-_How do you know my name? What are you doing here?-_but she left them unasked.

"My name is Ardeth Bay. I've been watching you and your party. You need help. I am here to offer it." He touched his hand to his forehead and gave her a formal _salaam_.

"Are you Medjai?"

Ardeth froze for a moment and a flicker of something unreadable flashed across his face. He slowly inclined his head.

"Then why do you want to help me? If you've been watching us, you must know we're headed to Hamunaptra. They're planning to raid the tombs." She ducked her chin and glanced down and away. "They say the Medjai will kill anyone who goes there."

Ardeth rolled away, releasing her arms. She sucked in a breath that stuttered in her lungs. "This is not your goal," he said. "I heard you offer to leave. I heard you tell them to give up the task." He paused and pressed his lips into a thin line. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I heard your brother turn his back on you. If you wish, we will help you leave these men. We will see you safely back to Cairo."

With the black-robed stranger looming over her, Rose felt exposed and vulnerable. She sat up and clutched the blanket to her chest. Shivers raced through her that had nothing to do with the cold the night. "You must have also heard them say I have nowhere else to go. It's true. I have no other family. Mum died not two months ago." Her voice hitched and caught in her throat. "Roy's all I have left. I can't go back to the city. Where would I live? What work could I do? And why am I telling you all this anyway?"

As soon as the last question escaped her lips, she wished she could bite it back. He had not shown any sign of wishing her harm, and aside from his unorthodox appearance in her tent, he had given her no reason to distrust him. She buried her head in her knees and pulled her arms over her head, as if by hiding she could make the reality of her situation vanish like a mirage.

"Rose, you do not deserve what he has done to you." His voice was deep and rich as Turkish coffee. The weight of his hand settled on her head and stroked back over her hair. She startled, but the tender motion softened the muscles at the base of her neck which had tightened into ramrod coils. "I swear by Allah that if you will come away with us, I will see you safe."

Rose raised her head. Ardeth's face swam though the unshed tears that stung her eyes, already raw from before. She swiped them away with the back of a hand. "I can't. I'm sorry. He's my family. I'm afraid for about him. Roy wasn't always so hard. It's these people he's chosen to associate with. As much as he's hurt me, I must try to get him away from Jim and the others. Thank you for your offer, but I have to stay."

Ardeth pressed a fist to his lips, then nodded, a sharp, decisive motion. "I will give you then a warning and a promise. First, the warning. If these men reach the City of the Dead, we must take action against them. If you value your brother's life, you must turn him away before he reaches the City. My promise is this: if you change your mind and wish to leave, know that we will be nearby. All you have to do is give us a sign. I will come for you."

"I understand." Suddenly aware of the impropriety of the situation-_alone with a strange man in nothing more than a nightgown_-Rose wrapped the blanket around herself and straightened her spine. The last remnants of panic ebbing from her veins, she lifted her chin and tried to pretend they were sitting in someplace safe, a comfortable hotel lobby or the deck of an ocean liner manned by white-jacketed waiters serving lemonade. "Thank you again, Ardeth Bay. I value what you've offered me, but I sincerely hope that I'll never have to see you again."

He rose and a spicy desert musk filled the tent, dashing away her partially formed illusion. This man would never fit in such a civilized place. Rose swallowed in a dry throat.

"May Allah watch over you," he said, the warm burr of his voice trigging a quiver in her belly. "Sleep in safety. We shall be near." Then he was gone in a swirl of black robes.

Rose lowered herself back onto her sleeping mat, and pulled the blanket tighter. Although he was gone, Ardeth's presence lingered in the tent along with his scent. _We shall be near_. Why this warrior of the desert should care one whit about her and her well-being was beyond her understanding, but the overwhelming crush of helplessness had lifted. She was not alone.

#

**Author's Note: Are you enjoying the story? If so, please drop me a review! If you have any comments, critiques-anything that you either love or think needs work, please let me know. Reviews make happy authors!**


End file.
